


Just Wanna Feel Wanted

by orphan_account, WithMyTeeth (Ylith)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Break Up, Breathplay, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 03:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4813787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/pseuds/WithMyTeeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles and Jackson are on the brink of breaking up after Stiles makes a mistake.<br/>Their ability to survive rests on Jackson being able to get over himself.</p><p>(Warning: this way leads to porn)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Wanna Feel Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> This fics grew from Alt (alternativename) luring withmyteeth into doing some RP with her.  
> (I think it went REALLY really well)
> 
> In case you're wondering, Alt wrote Jackson, and withmyteeth wrote Stiles. However, the two perspectives blurred together pretty well, so it might be hard to spot who wrote what.

Jackson stared incredulously at the boy in front of him. He sucked the flesh of his cheek between his teeth and bit down, it hurt and the taste of blood flooded his mouth, but it helped him stay calm. Stiles had managed to convince him to talk (he was 99% certain that Danny had helped him, the traitor) but he really just wanted to get out of there. Unfortunately it was his bedroom they were in, making escape difficult.

 “So, what the fuck do you want Stilinski?” He didn’t feel able to use the name Stiles right now, it was too intimate. “I really don’t have anything to say to you…”

 Stiles nibbled at his lower lip, his long fingers knitting before him as he shifted from one foot to another, his nerves betraying him. "Seriously, are we really reverting back to using last names, 'Whittemore'?"

 Stiles shook his head with a groan, hands flying apart before he buried them in his pockets. "I'm not you... Jackson... I'm not used to people fawning all over me. It was just a heat of the moment thing. I know that doesn't make it right, but I've never had someone just pick me, ok? Some random guy who's hot and could have anyone, but picked me."

 Stiles' lip trembled and he looked down quickly to avoid Jackson's gaze. "I just wanted to know what it felt like to be someone's first choice... for once."

 Jackson could feel his body getting simultaneously very cold and very hot at the same time. Hot bitter anger flooded his system at the thought of another guy putting his hands on _his_ property. He could feel his claws prickling, the urge to go out and destroy the competition. But, cold empty dread filled him from the bottom up, at Stiles words: whether he meant to or not, he had pretty much just admitted that Jackson couldn’t give him what he wanted.

 “That’s just great Stiles,” he said, wincing slightly at the word, and deciding to stick with second names, “I’m sure your little dumb-ass friends all agree that you’re not in the wrong... “ Jackson was already regretting mentioning Scott at all, Stiles always got defensive at that, “Well, just fucking whatever. I don’t even give shit, go kiss whoever you want,” - fuck was Jackson pleased that Stiles couldn’t hear lies -  “Like you said, I’m not like you, I didn’t even want to do this shit in the first place.”

 Stiles' face crumpled as though he'd been slapped. His mouth hung open, lashes fluttering as his eyes prickled with the beginnings of bitter tears as every insecurity he'd ever had roared to the forefront, as good as confirmed. "You are such an asshole," he mumbled, lips trembling as he tried to hold it together, hands fisted uselessly at his sides. He stalked past Jackson, jerking away before their bodies could come into any sort of contact. His fingers were just brushing against the handle when he froze, long body stock still until he slowly looked back over his shoulder.

Stiles' eyes glistened with tears, but his expression was hardened, calculating. "You always get nasty when you're scared," he said, more to himself than the other boy. "And I know your track record.... it's not like you've been a saint either... so is it the cheating, or that I had the nerve to cheat on you."

Jackson moved towards Stiles instinctively when the boy had passed him, catching himself just in time. Sure he hadn’t wanted to even talk to the teen, but now he was here, he couldn’t help but feel like letting Stiles just walk out would feel even worse. “You cheated on me Stiles!” he shouted, his eyes flashing a cruel blue, belying some of his past sins. “You can dress it up however you want, but that’s what it fucking comes down to!”

 He swallowed compulsively, trying to get his eyes under control, and resume a slightly more aloof position. “And yeah, whatever, I know I’ve been unfaithful when with others…” He wanted so badly to fall back on arrogance, to make Stiles feel small and stupid, like nothing the boy could do would get to him… But he couldn’t quite shake the disappointment that Stiles thought that he’d been disloyal with him. “...is that what you thought then? That I’d been messing around. Cheat on me so you could get out of this with the last word?”

 Stiles rolled his eyes, jaw dropping open with an animated groan. "No, jackass, I'm just saying this whole breakup is bullshit. I felt like complete shit for this because I actually thought I'd hurt you, but you know what? I think all you care about is your bruised ego, that a little loser like me dared to look at someone else when I had THE Jackson Whittemore to myself." His arms were crossed defensively over his chest, and he practically vibrated with the energy as he waited for Jackson to speak, to contradict him. "Tell me I'm wrong, Jackson. I'm waiting."

 "You'd love the chance to make me the bad guy here! Poor little Stiles, just _dying_ for attention from some stranger in a bar.” Jackson was sneering, his mouth curled in a grimace, but he knew it was at his own weakness here. “You want to walk out of here feeling like the victim, then fucking fine.”

 The emotion coursing through Jackson was so strong now that he felt his control slipping. His claws were appearing properly, and he paced a few times around the room, before howling and slashing his nails into a stray cushion that adorned his couch. As the cotton innards fell to the floor he spun and pointed a clawed hand at Stiles. “You’re wrong. You hear that, you’re fucking wrong! You fucked up Stiles, you were supposed to be different. You were supposed to make me be different, and you went and fucking ruined it for some cheap thrills in a club!”

 Stiles watched Jackson stalk across the room, stunned into momentary silence by the other boy's words. He kept his arms wrapped about himself, protective as he bared the brunt of Jackson's anger, let what he'd said fully sink in. "I'm not-" he began, swallowing when his voice strained. "I'm not blaming you, Jackson... I'm asking you to understand. You tossed _Lydia_ to the curb like she was nothing, and I'm... I'm not Lydia, I'm not like anyone you've ever been with, sometimes I look at you and wonder how much longer I have before you remember you can do so much better. But I shouldn't have kissed that guy... I'm sorry Jackson, that was wrong."

 Jackson felt like he was flying apart into a thousand different pieces, and it was just so utterly terrible that Stiles was simultaneously the person who was supposed to be allowed to see him like this, but also the one who had caused it. “You’re an idiot,” he bit out. He was looking at the floor, but he couldn’t help but repeatedly sneak glances up at Stiles; the teen looked so vulnerable. Jackson hoped he wasn’t scared, scared of Jackson being angry, it’d kill him if his lashing out had made Stiles fear him.

 “You’re an idiot who must be fucking blind. You can’t see yourself. You can’t see what it is that you bring with you when you fucking take over someone’s life. You bring all your… Happiness. And acceptance. You make someone” - it was too much to say the word ‘me’ right now, Jackson was about to bottle it and nope out of the conversation any minute now already - “you make someone feel like they can do anything if they’ve got your attention.” He’d gotten really quiet now, afraid that if he spoke any louder that his voice would crack.

 Stiles stared at him, pink lips parted as he searched Jackson's face for any betraying twitch of insincerity. He took a careful step forward, ending almost toe to toe with Jackson, their noses scant inches away. He licked his lips as he waited to see if Jackson would accept the close proximity or back off, swallowing hard when the other boy remained in place.

"Do I-?" he started, practically tripping over the softly uttered words. "Do I really make you feel that way?" He knew it was what Jackson had meant but he selfishly wanted to hear it, craved the validation he was getting a taste of from Jackson's melancholy gaze. His chest felt tight, hope rising in his throat as he all but watched Jackson's walls begin to crack.

 Jackson whined low in his throat, the sound teetering off into a growl. It was really hard not to reach out and touch Stiles. His sweet autumnal scent that Jackson had come so associate with lazy afternoons and morning sex, subduing some of the adrenaline that had caused him to eviscerate the furnishings a moment before… But with the fight or flight abating, misery and dejection took its place. “I’m not surprised you didn’t know it already…” He felt suddenly like he was getting ready to say goodbye, and it hurt like hot knife through his heart, at least giving him the courage to say the thoughts he’d previously die hiding.

 “I’d thought it was different this time. _I_ had tried to be different this time. I didn’t push away when things had gotten too real… I didn’t set up back up plans, to save face if things ever went sour… I thought I was going all in…” Jackson looked at Stiles face, his eyes passing over the speckled flesh that he’d spent hours chasing with his lips, and smiled ruefully. “It’s not really a surprise that even when I try it turns out it’s not good enough.” The urge to lean forward and steal one last kiss was so strong, but Jackson couldn’t trust himself to ever let the teen go again. Instead he sighs and goes to move away, “Look, whatever, you’re forgiven or whatever it is you came here to hear from me”.

 Stiles felt Jackson begin to pull away and gripped him by the shirtfront to keep him in place. "You idiot." he chided, the corner of his mouth twitching into a wry little smile. "I know I'm like... totally awesome at everything, but I'm not a mind-reader. You never _told_ me any of that before, how was I supposed to know?" He shuffled forward to close the gap between them, his lashes dusting over his cheeks as he glanced down at Jackson's plush lips. "But I'm really-" he placed a chaste kiss to the corner of Jackson's mouth. "Really" Another, to the opposite side. "Really glad you told me now." He ended with their mouths hovering a bare breath apart, his honey eyes fixed on Jackson's as he sought permission to move in once more.

 Fuck Jackson felt good having Stiles this close to him, the soft kisses felt like flutters of warmth through him, cracking his icy isolation one word and movement at a time. It was too much then, to not be kissing Stiles, to not be holding him. Jackson’s arm slid solidly behind Stiles’ waist, pulling the slighter boy flush against his chest. His other hand gripped hard at the back of Stiles’ neck, Jackson’s fingers slipping into the wisps of brown hair, allowing him to finally position the boy’s mouth so he could slide his own lips over those that had been taunting him throughout the entire conversation.

 He growled low, squeezing Stiles impossibly closer still, pushing his tongue viciously into Stiles’ mouth, as if this was the only way to truly communicate all the words he’d still been unable to express. Finally he broke them apart, and pressed their foreheads together. “You can never, never, kiss someone again.” He was growling, and his hind brain was screaming at him to just _scare_ Stiles into submission, but his dignity… And his heart, pestered him to calm down. “I’m not a very nice person Stiles. I know that. But I deserve to be made to feel wanted… You were supposed to be that person. I don’t… I don’t think I could bring myself to forgive you again.”

 Stiles wrapped his arms around Jackson's neck, his hips pushing up unconsciously as he dragged Jackson closer. He shook his head, breath ghosting over Jackson's waiting lips as he murmured "You won’t have to... there's no one else, Jackson." He gasped when Jackson claimed his mouth hard, their teeth clicking as their mouths collided in the frenzied kiss. Stiles moaned as strong arms tightened around his waist, his own fingers happily mussing Jackson's perfectly gelled hair to clutch at him desperately. "Let me be that person for you."

 Stiles opened his mouth, admitting Jackson's tongue with the welcoming press of his own and breathing deeply through his nose any chance he got. He didn't realize they'd been moving until the back of his legs hit the bed and Stiles flailed as he fell back onto the mattress, bouncing with a grunt.

 It was instinctual really, for Jackson to bring both of Stiles arms above the boy’s head, and make him stretch out along the bed. The movement made a slither of flesh become bare across Stiles’ stomach, encouraging Jackson to slide his hand underneath Stiles’ shirt while still plundering the boy’s mouth. The small whining noises he could make Stiles produce each time he rutted their crotches together emboldened his most animal side. The words: ‘Mine. Mine. Mine’ racing through his head, and could only be abated by making Stiles writhe below him.

 He finally wrenched their lips apart, and crawled down Stiles’ chest so he could sink his - thankfully human - teeth into the butter soft flesh of Stiles’ stomach. The keening sound it produce emboldened him. “I’m going to fuck you” he growled viciously, biting again, to get a similar sound from the boy’s mouth. But he followed it was some gentle licks and nuzzling, “would you like that baby? Make you feel good?”

 It was all one massive sensory overload to Stiles, who arched beneath Jackson's touch, eyes tightly shut and teeth dug into his own lip as his fingers clench in the bedding. He managed a weak nod as he writhed, whimpering with need when Jackson's tongue ran a hot line down Stiles' belly. "Fuck, Jackson... want you in me."

 He laughed when Jackson practically ripped his jeans open in his impatience, surprised the button didn't pop off entirely under the rough treatment. He lifted his hips to allow the other boy to drag his jeans down and off, parted his thighs to give Jackson space when he returned to the bed. Jackson pulled him up for a kiss, one of his hands stroking up the back of one of Stiles' thighs, making him shiver.

 Jackson pulled off his own shirt, enjoying the way Stiles’ eyes honed onto his abs. His arms placed either side of Stiles’ head he paused for a moment. Letting Stiles’ drink in the sight of him, and enjoying his own view of his… “I want us to be clear first” Jackson interrupts, looking down at Stiles, “us doing this means we’re trying again, right?” He smiled down at his boyfriend, and fuck did it feel good to think that. “You look so good for me, and I need you to trust me now. I won’t... I won’t get angry. I need you to tell me.” He took a deep breath and stared down into Stiles’ eyes. “Was it anything more than a kiss?”

 Stiles didn't even need to hesitate, already shaking his head before the question had fully left Jackson's mouth. "Never," he promised. "It was stupid, if I'd have known how you felt then, there never would have been a kiss. You're the only one I want, Jacks."

 Jackson closed his eyes for a moment and just let the information sink in. It still hurt, fuck did it still hurt, but he trusted Stiles. It was hard, harder now, but he had to trust Stiles for this to work. “Ok” he said quietly. And then opened his eyes, and gave Stiles his character grin, “ok, that’s good, I want you too.” He made the journey back down Stiles’ body, tugging down the boy’s underwear as he went, giving him access to the engorged erection. “Let me show you how much I want you.” He murmured, pressing a wet kiss to the tip.

 Stiles' eyes rolled back with a heady groan as Jackson licked a hot strip up the length of his cock. He fisted the sheets hard enough to tug them off the corners of the mattress when Jackson closed his lips around the head, the suction gentle as he worked his way down. By the time he'd worked up a rhythm, fingers wrapped around the base of Stiles' plumped up dick to hold it in place, Stiles was gasping out nonsense, his words tumbling out in a breathy moan with a little hitch here and there on a particularly hard suck.

 Stiles' toes curled when Jackson cupped his balls, rolling them carefully with his thumb as he bobbed his head until Stiles was panting "I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna cum" in a whimpered mantra against the inside of his own arm.

 Jackson pulled off him for a minute, and just as Stiles cracked an eye in investigate, Jackson pressed a spit slick finger against his hole.

 "Oh god yes," Stiles wheezed, humping his hips up to try and push the finger deeper, groaning when Jackson crooked it to brush over his prostate.

 Keeping his lips close enough to the tip of Stiles’ dick that every thrust the boy made had it bumping into his spit slicked lips, Jackson cajoled him with encouragements. “Come on baby, such a pretty dick you have, so good for me, that’s it, you’re so good, can’t wait to get my thick dick in your little hole, come on, come on-”

 Flicking his finger again against that bundle of nerves, Jackson caught the tip of Stiles’ dick in his mouth as the boy finally erupted. The keening noise the slighter boy produce was music to his ears, and he sucked dutifully on the over sensitive tip until Stiles was mewling for pity.

 Stiles was boneless, making it easy for Jackson turn him over, and cup each curve of the boy’s ass. Swiftly he pulled them apart to reveal the slightly pink looking entrance, and deftly ducked down to push his sodden mouth that was filled with Stiles’ cum onto the hole, using his tongue to fuck the thick liquid inside of him.

 Stiles spread his knees, arching his ass up in offering for Jackson's questing tongue. His eyes drifted shut, lashes fluttering when Jackson nipped at his sensitive rim. He rocked back against him, swollen lips pouted with a whine as Jackson's thumb rubbed firmly against his perineum. "Come on, Jacks," he keened, cheek leaving the cool bedding so he could look back over his shoulder at the other boy. "Want your cock."

 Jackson tapped Stiles' hip, and when bidden Stiles drew himself up onto his knees a bit more, resting his upper body on his elbows. He watched as Jackson retrieved some lube from the nightstand, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling when the other boy warmed it between his fingers with a clinical eye. He waggled his ass playfully when Jackson returned, delighting in the smug little smile that tugged at Jackson's mouth.

 Stiles’ ass waggling was put to an end when two fingers pushed straight inside him. The boy was slick with saliva, cum and lube, making the fit tight but not uncomfortable. Jackson used his thumb to massage the rim as he built up a pace inside him, stretching his fingers apart intermittently. “Look at you, so wet for me.” Jackson was a flirt during sex, simultaneously stimulating his partner with words and touch. “Does that feel good baby? How about this?” He asked, sliding a lube slicked hand around Stiles’ front to jerk at his swelling dick in time with his fingers.

 “You’re so good. So good. Do you think you can take me now? Think your little hole can swallow up my fat dick?” He was moaning himself slightly at thought thought of it, his boxers clad erection wet, and grinding across the soaked crease of Stiles’ thigh.

 Stiles turned his face from where it had been pressed into the sheets, wet mouth gaping with a moan. "Just a little more," he begged, knowing how much Jackson loved the thought of his prick being too much for Stiles to take right away. Stiles palmed at his own chest, pinching a nipple until pleasure sparked through him. Between Jackson's fingers in his ass and hand on his cock, he was well on his way to getting hard again, but he wanted to cum on Jackson's cock.

 He reveled in the feel of the firm fingers inside him, how they stretched his delicate insides and rubbed insistently over his prostate. He began working his hips, humping against the dual stimulation.

 After another minute and the inclusion of a third finger, Stiles finally nodded in readiness, his ass arching back for Jackson to use.

 "Fuck me," he whimpered. "Come on Jacks, I'm ready."

 Jackson whined at Stiles words, he was really hard now, and desperately eager to get inside. Dropping the boy’s dick, and leaving the slickened hole, he placed a delicate kiss at the bottom of Stiles’ spine, before quickly pulling off his remaining clothing and coating his own cock in lubrication. He was murmuring the words, “you’re so good, so-so good” as he dragged Stiles’ hips a little higher, and pushed a hand down between the slighter teen’s shoulder blades, so he was forced to bow his back.

It’s not that Jackson liked to _hurt_ his partners, he just liked to feel in control. To leave a reminder - in the ache of another’s body - that he was there. Finally, he grasped his cock, and pushed the blunt edge up against the boy’s entrance. This is what he liked, just too much resistance. Jackson gripped Stiles’ hip harshly with one hand, dragging him back slightly as Jackson broke through and _in_ to the wet heat. “That’s it. Fuck yeah, baby, that’s it”.

 He could hear Stiles’ mewling in discomfort again, and the thought of him splitting the boy opened caused a pulse of pure want that jolted his cock. “Fu-u-uk” he growled, just as Stiles’ whines went up a notch.

 Stiles bowed his back, trying to arch away from the sharp pang of the too swift penetration. "Too deep," he whimpered, reaching a hand back blindly to grasp at Jackson, implore him to take it a bit slower, a bit easier. "Fuck, you're so big Jacks..." He went boneless though when Jackson pressed a hand to the nape of his neck and held him down, kept him in place. Jackson rolled his hips in shallow little pushes, urged Stiles to push his hips back, bear down, promised him he could take it. Stiles went lax in his grip, followed his directions and let him take charge until he'd loosened up enough for Jackson to fuck in deeper, until Stiles swore he could practically feel the other boy's cock in his gut.

 As Jackson's thrusts grew harder, Stiles was pushed back and forth against the bed, the sheets rumpled beneath his cheek and panting mouth. He raised one hand up to press against the wall, give himself some leverage.

 Every nerve ending felt lit from within, his belly warm with pleasure, his ass tingling from being bounced with each clap of skin on skin as Jackson thrust. He wanted something in his mouth, settled for dragging his lower lip between his teeth to worry as heat mounted within him.

 It felt good. Really fucking good for Jackson. “You can take it baby, you can take it” he soothed, his soft words juxtaposed to his increasingly vicious thrusts. It was getting to the point where the urge to wolf-out was tantalising, so much rich creamy flesh in front of him. Grinding his hips forward, so the thick base of his cock would massage Stiles’ abused rim, he pressed down extra hard on the smaller boy’s neck, hoping to cost him a few moments of precious air.

 Jackson growled with pleasure as Stiles writhed below him, unable to move away from the overstimulation from Jackson’s cock, or the weight of his arm against the boy’s neck. “You wanted to feel like someone’s first choice? Is that what you needed baby?” his words taking a slightly bitter tone, “I should have bent you over and fucked you until you cried, now you know, don’t you? Now you fuck-fuck-FUCK, now you know!”

 Although basking in the pleasure of Stiles’ trapped beneath him, mewling, Jackson suddenly needed to kiss him. He let go of the boy’s neck finally, causing Stiles to take in some rapid breaths of air, before pulling him up against his chest, so he could press his lips right against the shell of Stiles’ ear. “Mine, fucking mine. Never going to let you go. Never.” Before slipping a hand back around Stiles’ neck again so he could tip the boy back, and plunder his mouth, all the while jackknifing his cock into Stiles’ sodden hole.

 Stiles let himself go boneless in Jackson's hold, clutching the hand Jackson had at his throat just for something to hold onto. He tilted his head back to give the other boy more room to mouth at his throat and jaw, wincing at the pinch of teeth and gasping at the hot tongue which lathed over the sting. For better or worse, Jackson's possessive growls went straight to his dick, which bounced against his stomach with every punishing thrust, smearing precum in its wake. He loved the way Jackson clutched him, felt the heat of his words in his ear and the clutch of his fingers against Stiles' belly which urged his hips back and kept him in place.

 Stiles' balls were high and tight, full and aching from the need to cum. He tilted his head, offered his pouty lips to Jackson who immediately took advantage of the invitation. The kiss was sloppy, inelegant, broken up between Stiles' pleas for Jackson to fuck him harder and Jackson's short directions for him to tilt his ass back or open his mouth for sloppy kisses.

 It made Stiles' dick drool precum to assure Jackson he belonged to him when the other boy pressed him. He felt it in his bones, made all the better by the knowledge that Jackson belonged to him just as much.

 Jackson was close now. The angle of their bodies had the ridge of his cock repeatedly dragging against the rim of Stiles’ hole, urging him to snap his hips back inside with every thrust. He wanted to make Stiles’ come first though, wanted to hear the boy cry his name and go limp in his arms.

 He let his hand, cautiously free of claws, slide down from where they had been needing the fluttering flesh of Stiles stomach. Bypassing the slighter teen’s cock, and inside scooped up the boy’s balls, rolling them in his palm, and pushing them up into the root of Stiles’ erection. Stiles was keened at the action, instigating a deep roar in Jackson’s chest.

 “That’s it baby, that’s it. You’re so good. Cum for me baby, you can do it like this, just like this” he rumbled in the abused flesh of Stiles’ neck before biting down again with force.

 Stiles needed something to hold onto and gripped the hand still gently encircling his throat hard with both of his own, his short nails biting into Jackson's flesh. He canted his hips back, trying to get Jackson's cock to rub him inside just so. He was so close, felt so damn good, and he just needed something to push him over the edge. Jackson seemed to understand, and slipped his hand further between Stiles' legs to press the tips of two fingers against his perineum. It only took two circular rubs set him off, Stiles' body shuddering as pleasure rippled through him in electric waves.

 "Fuck... Jackson" he gasped, his head slumped back against the crook of the other boy's shoulder. Stiles was barely given a moment to collect his breath before Jackson was moving again.

 Everything just began to blend together for Jackson, he was just so excited it and it looked so good: Jackson could feel Stiles’ body quiver and clench around his cock, and could watch the boy’s dick vibrate and jolt as it cum splattered up Stiles’ chest and onto the bed.

 But Jackson’s favourite part was just after, now Stiles’ body had gone soft and his ability to keep himself up was slipping, allowed Jackson to drag him backwards and forwards in just the right way. He wasn’t even speaking now, just growling in between biting at Stiles’ lips and shoving his tongue into the smaller boy’s mouth in tandem with his dick ploughing inside the boy’s hole.

 He was close, he could feel, so close. His cock had gone painfully hard. And then he heard Stiles sigh out a sweet keen of “I’m yours Jackson, make me yours Jackson” and he just lost it. Pushing the boy flat down on the bed, one hand between the shoulder blades and the second bruising grip onto Stiles’ hip so he could effectively rut inside the boy and release his cum at length.

 Finally when the urge to push forward finally abated he let himself slide down, half his body on the bed beside the boy, but his leg and arms trapping Stiles’ below him, allowing him to bury his head into the slighter teen’s neck.

 They lay there for a few minutes, both panting like they'd run a marathon. Stiles wiggled contentedly beneath Jackson, his ass sore in the best way and his neck throbbing with what he knew were going to be some seriously heinous hickies.

 He burrowed beneath Jackson a bit more, tugging the other boy's arm until it fully encircled his chest. The jizz was starting to cool in gross sticky patches, and their limbs were damp with sweat, but for the moment Stiles was happy to just lay there and cling, revel in afterglow a bit. He'd never expected this as the outcome when he asked Jackson to talk to him, had figured he would at best get the chance to explain himself before giving Jackson some space to digest it.

 But Jackson had actually opened up, had actually let Stiles sneak his foot in the door, and while Stiles knew he still had some penance in way of regaining Jackson's trust, he felt they were in a better place than they'd even been before 'the kiss'. He grinned to himself, dimples popping and eyes shut in a private moment of self indulgent smugness.

 Jackson himself was sporadically licking and nuzzling, his hind brain repeatedly urging to mark, and claim, and protect. It felt good to just switch off for a second; during the sex he’d let a lot of his wolf out, but it was never safe to completely over to the other side incase he went too far and hurt Stiles. Here though, he was content to just let his wolf bask in the presence of his partner…

 ...There was an itch though. The look of Stiles’ face when he admitted that he thought that any minute Jackson may leave him, it kept pulling at him, and urging him to say something. Finally, while hiding his face well and truly beneath Stiles ear so he could whisper and ensure he’d still be heard, he found the words.

 “I’m not ready to say it yet” he hoped Stiles knew which three words he was talking about it, “and I can’t promise I’ll ever say it... But, I’ll try a bit harder. To think about what you need.” It was too quiet in the room, and he was scared that he has said too much.

 But then Stiles broke the silence by squirming in his hold until he could look back and meet Jackson's eyes meaningfully. "Could you tell me that again in like... 5 minutes? I want to bask in the glory of you basically admitting you are totally in like with me, but it's hard when your jizz is oozing out of me."  

 Jackson snorted, moving his own leg so he could ease Stiles’ legs apart and drag his fingers through said ooze, coaxing little moans out Stiles in response.

 “Freak” he whispered, with another nip to Stiles’ shoulder.

 "Yeah, and you love it" Stiles replied with a breathy grin.

 Jackson smirked, eyes rolling as he conceded, "yeah, I do."

 Because, yeah, yeah he did.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as we enjoyed writing it.  
> There isn't _nearly_ enough Stackson out there, so you should all show this one some affection ^.^


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